


Red is Worn to Tango

by LesbianLizalfos



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Blood, Choking (mentions), I can’t tag, I liked this I hope you do, I love her, M/M, Tango, Torture, Yes Tatiana saves Curt at the end, help my boys, i say red a lot idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesbianLizalfos/pseuds/LesbianLizalfos
Summary: Owen recounts tangoing and torturing
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Kudos: 16





	Red is Worn to Tango

When Owen first learned to tango, he’d been on a mission in Argentina. His partner, (not boyfriend, mind you), Johnathan, said ‘This is the origin country of the tango.’ Ever since he’s absolutely loved the dance. How smooth the moves are. The romanticism between him and his dancing partner. 

And now, he has a new favorite dance. Torture. Of course, it isn’t a real dance. But, it takes two to torture, just like it does to tango. And he relishes the closeness of it. Of both of them. He’s found there are many similarities with these. Red’s a common color. A man will usually wear a red bow tie around his neck, or hold a red rose in his mouth. That same man’s neck could have blood gush out of a deep wound, a flash of silver preceding it. His lips would be swollen, blood dripping out of where the rose’s thorns have pricked him. 

That’s another thing. Everything beautiful or sweet has its sharp sides. A lovely dog could snap a bunny’s neck in an instant. It’s just a matter of if.

Torture has the screams, the begging, the crying for him to stop.. The red on his hands as they squirm. Then there’s the clean up. And the paper work if he goes too far. And what happens to him if he fails to get information before killing them. Tangoing has the satisfaction of finishing the dance, the breath of relief if it’s successful. The beautiful clothes. And then there’s stepping on each other’s toes. Cursing when he fucks the routine up. 

Then, Curt Mega. Suave, handsome, sensitive Curt. But like a rose, he has thorns. He’s selfish, stupid, and cocky. 

And now, he’s soaking up the sounds of his ex-lover unable to get the breath into his lungs. Red oozes from a few cuts on his face. 

They used to tango. In the privacy of their homes, Curt with a red bow tie, a rose in his mouth, and everytime he would waggle his eyebrows. Owen remembers it vividly. He always wore a matching suit, a light grey bow tie, instead. 

He sees red. Not just the blood. His anger. Curt leaving him. He left like they meant nothing. 

A pain in the back of his head. Now he sees stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk, I enjoyed writing this, I hope some of y’all like it! <3


End file.
